


The truth is, I got lost without you

by Samcgrath



Series: Half a heart without you [2]
Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: After the Happy Ending, M/M, Sorry Not Sorry, a lot of it, actually I added in a bit, and there's a happy ending, but then it gets better, there's angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-06
Updated: 2014-12-06
Packaged: 2018-02-28 08:10:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,510
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2725163
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Samcgrath/pseuds/Samcgrath
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Harry wakes up another day without Louis, everything's the same. Except today he has a visitor.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The truth is, I got lost without you

**Author's Note:**

> I was told the first part of this was way too sad and needed a happy ending, and I'm a sucker for everything working out in the end so here it is. The happily ever after of this fic!
> 
> PS-You need to read the first fic first to understand whats going on.
> 
> UPDATE: I'm a lying liar who lies. I added in another bit after the part I posted yesterday and this one is not exactly 'happy ending' but I guess I'm a sadistic/masochistic jerk so yeah. Don't read the part after ***** if you want the happy ending that's mentioned in the tags. Otherwise, be ready for an open ending.

Sharp, blinding light wakes him up. Opening his eyes and looking around groggily, finds the curtains open and sunlight pouring in. He lifts his hand to shield his eyes from the blinding light and something falls on the floor from the movement - it’s Louis’ sweater, he reaches down and snatches it up quickly because he can never bear to be not touching it these days; kills him to see the blood stains still on the wool, kills him more to not feel it between his fingers.

Clutching the cloth to his chest, he gets up off the floor and staggers his way toward the kitchen. His head is killing him, but then again when isn’t it? Cold water should help. It doesn’t. His stomach is still churning, head still throbbing and Louis is still dead.

He doesn’t have time to move before his body protests the abuse he’s been putting it through, and he’s vomiting right there in the kitchen next to the sink. If he wasn’t hurting so bad, if he wasn’t dead inside he’d care about the disgusting mess on the kitchen floor but he is all but physically dead so it doesn’t matter.

It takes him a good five minutes to make his way up the stairs, the floor spinning under his feet. When he does finally get to his bathroom, he goes to the cabinet and blindly feels around to find what he wants. Ah, there it is.

Headache tablets, the only thing he eats these days except a banana here and there. After popping two pills into his dry mouth, he relieves himself and goes downstairs to start afresh on the whiskey.

‘And I’d marry you, Harry.’

It doesn’t get any easier necessarily as he feels himself slipping into hazy thoughts, Louis' voice ringing in his ear even though he hasn't heard it in months. Drinking make his life easier, no but it does make it feel like Louis’ here with him somehow. It gets easier to pretend.

‘Hi, love.’

“Hi.”

He knows Louis’ not here, in his heart he knows but it feels like he’s close. Just hiding somewhere after he’s done something he knows Harry will be angry about.

“I won’t be angry at you, Lou. I promise. Please, just come out.”

No answer.

Of course not, Louis’ gone.

“Please, just once. Come out, Louis. Please.”

The silence of the house is deafening, almost drowning him in itself, but not quite. He can still feel pain spreading through his chest as he remembers electric blue eyes, sharp cheekbones and a beautiful smile. So, he downs his glass and pours himself another one.

His stomach protests a little, looks like it’s going to be a throwing-up-blood day. Oh well.

He crushes the sweater close to his face, soft wool caressing his cheek and he thinks how sick this would look to someone watching him. How sick he must look, caressing a bloody sweater to his cheek like it gives him comfort to see the blood there but the truth is that he is a fool. He’s a fool who still believes in miracles, believes that he can somehow get Louis back if he just holds on to his bloody sweater.

A sharp knock jerks him out of his thoughts, it’s been weeks since every one gave up on him. No one’s been around for a while because they all got tired of being ignored. He sits there waiting for whoever it is this time to go away, but they’re persistent.

“Harry, I know you’re in there. I saw you through the window, come on Haz, open up.”

Zayn.

“I need to talk to you about something important.”

He stays where he is, clutching the glass of whiskey in his hand and waiting for Zayn to get tired of him too.

“I’m not leaving till you let me in.”

That reminds him of Louis, always stubborn. Of course Zayn is like Louis, they were best mates for years.

“Look, we all lost him but we have to move on.”

Harry’s heard some version or the other of this speech countless times, but he’s never understood just how they expect him to move on.

Move on and do what? Forget Louis? Like he could ever wake up without Louis on his mind, like he could ever fall asleep and not dream about Louis. Like he could ever close his eyes and not see Louis’ face behind his eyelids.

Like he could ever hold his gun to his forehead and pull the trigger without Louis stopping him.

“I lost my best mate, Harry. Do you think I’m okay with this? No, but I need to eat and sleep and move the fuck on. You know he’d want you to take care of yourself.”

_If he did, then why did he leave me?_

He can never bring himself to admit that he resents Louis for leaving him behind but it’s true.

“He’d kick my arse for not taking care of you so here I am. And I’m done with your lone-wolf act. Just open the fucking door!”

Something stirs in him, why is Zayn angry at him? For grieving? For loving Louis so much that he forgot himself somewhere along the way?

“It’s been months, Harry. Months. I know you love him, I know that, but have you ever considered how he’d feel if he saw you like this?”

That’s it. He can’t do this anymore.

He walks toward the main door, glass still clutched in hand and the bloody sweater wrapped around his neck. Zayn’s leaning against the wall when he yanks the door open, a gust of fresh hitting him.

“How’d _he_ feel? I should worry about how _he_ would feel? He, who left me here to deal with all this shit? You think I care about how he’s feeling right now wherever the fuck he is?!! No, Zayn! I don’t give a flying fuck how HE FEELS!”

He throws his half empty glass at the wal, it shatters pathetically before falling to the ground in pieces. Zayn’s hand reaches out tentatively to soothe him perhaps but Harry is done.

“Sometimes, I catch myself thinking what if I never fell in love with him but I stop myself before I go too far because I know I’d never want a life where I didn’t have him by my side. But honestly, today I wish I’d never met him. I wi—“

Pain shoots out on his face, he doesn’t even realise that Zayn’s slapped him till he looks up to see Zayn’s outstretched hand and his wide eyes. His own hand reaches up to touch his bruised cheek, his skin feels like it’s on fire. Before he can stop him, Zayn’s hand lands on his face again--

“Harry? Are you alright?”

He looks around confusedly, Louis is sitting on his bed with worried eyes trained on Harry’s face and his hand caressing his cheek lightly.

Harry starts forward and pulls Louis into his arms, he squeezes as hard as he can because finally he can touch Louis _and Louis’ here._

“Alright alright, Haz. What happened, love? Bad dream?”

Harry’s not sure what’s a dream and what’s reality now. All he knows is that Louis’ here and he’s holding on to Harry just as tightly, can feel Louis’ fingers digging into his back.

“You’re okay now, I’m here. I’m here, love.”

Harry doesn’t know what to say, relief surges through him like a high wave and he’s helpless in front of it.

“Hey, Haz. You’re scaring me now.”

Louis is trying to pull back, to look at his face but Harry doesn’t want to let him go, too afraid he’ll disappear again. But he does let go begrudgingly when Louis tries again.

There’s worry etched deep in Louis’ boyish features, his eyes curiously raking across Harry’s troubled face. That’s when he notices where they are.

The Bungalow. The X-factor bungalow, this is their shared room, Harry’s on his bunk bed and Louis’ sitting in front of him wearing a striped t-shirt and suspenders. It’s 2010.

“Harry?”

It was a dream. It was all a dream. Louis’ alive.

“You’re alive.”

Louis’ face contorts itself into a frown, his eyebrows scrunched as he levels with Harry an irritated scowl.

“Of course I’m alive, did you hit yourself over the head or summat last night?”

It’s not very funny but he laughs, he always laughs when Louis tries to be funny. But the relief is tremendous, Louis’ here. He’s not gone.

Without answering back, he pulls Louis to himself again. Breathes in his scent, and just holds on. Louis lets him hold on, but he pulls back after a minute.

“Are you alright?”

It’s serious this time, his eyes are intensely trained on Harry’s face.

“I love you, Louis.”

It’s comical really, how Louis’ mouth falls wide open in shock when he hears those words. It’s only then that Harry remembers that he’s never said them to Louis before. Oops.

“I just—I really needed you to know.”

Louis is still staring at him like he’s got three heads, for a second he sits there nervous and panicked thinking maybe Louis doesn’t feel the same way but then—

Louis pulls him forward with a hand on the nape of his neck, warm lips find his in a hurried frenzy and Louis kisses just like he does everything else, quick and unforgiving.

Harry’s still reeling from the feel of Louis’ wet lips against his and his fingers twirling the hair on the back of his neck when Louis pulls away leaving Harry panting. When he looks up, Louis’ wiping his lips with the back of his hand while his eyes stare into Harry’s.

“I thought you’d never say.”

And then, he’s gone.

Harry’s left sitting on his bunk bed questioning what Louis meant, with a serious problem in his pants and a wet mouth, and no Louis.

He asks Louis what he meant the next day and all Louis says is,

“I think I feel for you the first day Simon put us together but I’m not good at all this flirting and love business so I was waiting for you to realise. Good think you did.”

He leans in and presses a soft kiss against his lips, every single head in the studio turns around to stare at them and Louis pulls him in by his collar and pushes his tongue into Harry’s mouth.

Someone somewhere gasps loudly.

*****

 

Louis asks him about the dream that weekend, curled up under the quilt as a loud thunderstorm weaves through the city outside. Harry pulls Louis closer behind him, unconsciously. It was hard enough to lose Louis once, he's sure he can never live through that again.

"I was in a big house, alone because you--you had--you were gone. I lost you in an accident and then I wanted to kill myself but I couldn't because I'd promised you. So I was all alone in that big house, drowning myself in whiskey. It was so scary, Lou."

Louis shuffles even closer than before, Harry can feel his heat along his back and Louis' legs push through his to make them impossibly tangled up in each other. Louis' caress is gentle, where his fingers are splayed across his chest.

"Where were the lads?"

"I pushed them away, ignored them so they left me alone."

"And I was gone?"

"Yeah."

His voice is too soft to carry in even the dead silence in the room for the moment just before another flash of thunder lights it up for a second. But Louis still hears him, no doubt.

"If that ever happens--"

Louis must feel him stiffening because he cuts himself off,

"--IF, you need to promise me now that you won't be stupid and push everyone away. I know we've just started this but it feels like I've been waiting for you for centuries. I don't know how I'd ever manage without you but if this ever happens, you need to promise me that you'll let someone in. Can't drink yourself to death, Harry."

He just nods his head simply because he's not sure he can ever agree with Louis on this, not after he's been through what he's been through once. No.

"And I promise I'll do the same, I'll try to let one of the lads in. Promise, Haz."

He nods again, doesn't know what to say. Louis doesn't say anything for a while, maybe ran out of things to talk about. The thunder outside keeps lighting up the room every few minutes.

"Harry, what else did you see?"

"We were famous, Lou. Like proper famous, and we had a big house in London, just the two of us. There were so many photos on the wall of us, skiiing and award shows and red carpets. We looked so happy in them, Lou. And there were photos of the band, in proper suits and all dressed up. It was so unreal, because we'd made it, Lou. We made it!"

Louis smiles behind him, his lips stretching against Harry's neck.

"I knew we'd make it. Us and the band."

Harry falls asleep at some point, still talking about making it big, all their dreams coming true when they win X-factor and make an album.

***

Louis lies awake in the dark silence, holding Harry to himself. He can feel the soft movement of Harry's back against his neck, so he must be asleep. Once he's sure, only then does he let out the whimper he's been holding in. The sob that's been caught in his chest ever since Harry told him about his dream.

He can't help but hold Harry closer to himself, in a bout of possessiveness and stubbornness both because soon enough he's going to lose him. They've got a few years, but soon enough. 

He hasn't told Harry what that woman at the fare had said last month. It still seems too surreal, but he knows it's true.

'Your boy there, he's got a gift. He can see things we can't, can look into what's coming. And he'll see something that won't be good for you but it's going to happen, and he won't know dream from vision of reality. You will.'

This is what she meant, this vision. Her black eyes flash in front of his closed eyes, the hollowness in them has haunted him a few nights before but now he knows for sure that she was right. And he knows because she'd said that the skies would cry the day Harry saw his vision. London's almost flooded because it hasn't stopped raining since the night Harry had his dream. So, he knows. 

Louis knows he's going to die soon and leave Harry but he holds on stubbornly. No, this is not the vision. No. 

"Must be something else."

Harry is softly snoring next to him, lost to the world around him. Louis lays awake convincing himself that at least they will fulfill their dream before he loses Harry. 

***

**Author's Note:**

> Was that any good? Should I just get rid of this?


End file.
